


Feral

by Aansero



Category: The Goblin Emperor - Katherine Addison
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Boot Worship, Finger Sucking, M/M, Rape, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 08:18:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10917936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aansero/pseuds/Aansero
Summary: Eshevis had noticed him before, out of the corner of his eye, in moments of boredom. Slight, young, good-looking, graceful – yes, yes. Exactly the sort of thing to catch his eye. But what caught his attention was the nagging feeling of recognition.And now he had him standing before him, oh-so pretty, ears lowered far beyond propriety and hands trembling with fear?'Come closer,' Eshevis said. 'Where do we know thee from?'





	Feral

**Author's Note:**

> For the kinkmeme prompt: https://tge-kink.dreamwidth.org/678.html?thread=221350#cmt221350
> 
> Thank you for reading!

Eshevis had noticed him before, out of the corner of his eye, in moments of boredom. Slight, young, good-looking, graceful – yes, yes. Exactly the sort of thing to catch his eye. But what caught his attention was the nagging feeling of recognition.

And now he had him standing before him, oh-so pretty, ears lowered far beyond propriety and hands trembling with fear?

'Come closer,' Eshevis said. 'Where do we know thee from?'

The boy didn't come closer, nor did he reply, though his delicate lips opened fractionally. His perfect demeanour that Eshevis had seen before in court was utterly gone. It was at once very pathetic and very tantalising.

'Dach'osmer Tethimar,' Edrehasivar's secretary said eventually, sketching a short bow. He attempted to straighten his ears but his shoulders were trembling now, too. 'We fear you are mistaken. Please excuse us. His Serenity is waiting.'

He actually turned away to make a break for the door, only just not running, and Eshevis wasn't sure whether anything he might say would have stopped him. What did stop him was Rilna at the doorway, grabbing his upper arm and hauling him back. The boy stumbled, clearly not having expected that; no doubt, too, it would have hurt. Too bad he was not facing this way – his expression was bound to be delightful.

Rilna let him go after a moment when it became clear he wasn't struggling, and the boy stood there trembling harder than ever, jacket askew. 'We–' he said after a moment. 'Edrehasivar is expecting us.' His voice had gone flat and high.

'Mayst go when thou answerest our question,' Eshevis said. He didn't mean it, of course. He leant back on his chair and enjoyed the contrast between his own voice and the boy's, who had stepped away from Rilna so that when he turned his back was to the empty corner of the room.

'We have never met before, my lord,' the boy said, and oh, what a delightful lie. Eshevis allowed his smile to grow.

'Your Lordship.' From behind him spoke Tamris, one of his own secretaries. 'Mer Csevet Aisava. Born in Cetho, for twelve years until Edrehasivar's arrival worked as an imperial courier. We would assume it unlikely he never visited Eshoravee during this time. If you would like we can search the records for proof either way.'

A courier? That was – well, it ought to be unthinkable, but with that half-breed cretin on the throne, clearly not. And the information certainly opened up new and intriguing possibilities as to the boy's fear of him. His reputation was certainly more colourful in Eshoravee, and for couriers no doubt, but even for a craven reputation alone did not warrant this level of horror.

Perhaps... Eshevis looked at the boy carefully. 'Come here,' he said. Truthfully he didn't remember their faces very well, and it had been years. But what a find, if so–

The boy didn't move until Rilna stepped towards him, then he quickly paced forward to stand at the opposite side of the desk to where Eshevis sat. His eyes were comically wide, though not unflatteringly so. Fear suited him.

Eshevis gestured for him to come around the desk, a short, sharp movement of his hand. 'Here,' he said, when the boy didn't move.

It took yet another command before he was in reach, but when he was it was a simple thing to lean forwards and grab him by the front of his jacket, yanking him down and bringing him to his knees. He looked even prettier on his knees.

'We think,' Eshevis said, softly, 'thou art lying. And it would be a terrible thing to send a liar back to the sweet, trusting emperor.'

'No,' Edrehasivar's secretary said, more of a gasp than proper speech. 'We swear we do not lie–'

Eshevis backhanded him. The blow was not hard, as sitting down he lacked the room for a proper swing, but the boy still fell into the desk, hitting his head and yelping, poorly stifled. Eshevis didn't wait for him to recover before winding his fingers into his hair and twisting, yanking him back upright.

'Art a liar,' Eshevis said. 'What else? A thief? A whore? Didst seduce our young emperor? Dost steal secrets from the palace and sell them? Art a spy to revolutionaries and usurpers?'

The boy, frozen solid, stiff under Eshevis' hands, didn't answer. His eyelashes were damp, eyes round with horror. His lips were colourless and his breathing unsteady through an open mouth. Eshevis, with his left hand still gripping the boy's hair, ran his right hand down his face, pressing the pad of his thumb to the soft skin of his eyelids, down to his lips, cradling his jaw, and coming to a rest encircling his throat.

'Spies are put to death, even the pretty ones,' he said, and enjoyed the little spasm that passed through the boy's neck. 'Dost wish to know how?'

'Let us go.' The boy's voice trembled but didn't break. His hands had tightened into fists, pressed to his thighs. His ears were pinned far enough back to disappear in his ruffled hair. and his eyes were closed. 'Edrehasivar Zhas personally selected us and trusts us. He will be – severely displeased to hear of our mistreatment.'

So he had a backbone after all, if only a little one. Eshevis tightened his grip on the boy's throat and was rewarded with a soft cry and wet, irregular gasps for breath. He gripped a little tighter again and Edrehasivar's secretary jerked, his whole body twisting for just a moment, before he put his fine-boned hands on Eshevis' arm, grasping at the fabric of his sleeve. Another twitch of Eshevis' fingers and the boy's breathing stopped entirely. In a second he was going to panic, like everyone eventually did with Eshevis' hand tight around their throat. But before that – his eyes flew open, going first to Eshevis' face then flickering to a spot on Eshevis' forearm. 

Eshevis loosened his grip, smiled gently down at him.

'Art our fox, from long ago,' he said. 'Come back to us.'

Without meaning to he touched the scar on his inner arm. Then he laughed, loud above the ragged panting of the boy beneath him.

'Well, we certainly can't let you scurry away now we know,' Eshevis said, still laughing. 'Art a wild little creature. What if, let free, goest out and mauls our gentle Edrehasivar? No, we could never live with ourself if that were to happen. How glad we are we have caught such a feral thing.'

As he spoke Eshevis stroked his hands down the boy's head, knocking away his tashin sticks that held his braids up, down his neck and under the folds of his shirt, undoing the top few buttons. The tashin sticks clattered as they hit the floor; the boy pulled his hands to himself as if burnt. Eshevis could feel him tremble as he slid the boy's clothes over and off his shoulders, and held him in place easily when he tensed then struggled, fighting against Eshevis' hands clamped around his upper arms.

'Stop it,' the boy said, twisting uselessly. He sounded close to tears; Eshevis' cock, already half-hard, twitched. 'No – Edrehasivar–'

'How thou playest at civilisation! But dost not fool us.' The boy was struggling properly now and Eshevis tightened his grip, moving off his chair into a crouch and using the full weight of his body to push the boy down to the floor. 'But perhaps, now we think about it, thou hast become tame. It has been many years after all. But how can we tell? How canst thou prove it to us?'

'We will give you nothing,' the boy spat, even as he cowered on the floor, bucking and twisting uselessly. Eshevis slapped him hard, properly, three times, and the boy gasped, wordless in shock and pain as he fell still. His collar bones stood out starkly as his chest heaved.

'We will take what we want regardless of what thou givest us,' Eshevis said with a sneer. 'We assure thee, wilt not escape us this time. And not even thy precious half-breed can protect thee if we would he not.'

He lent closer. 'Although, if still dost not wish to cooperate – we are told they torture spies for many days, before the execution.'

The boy half shuddered, half twisted, passing the motion up through Eshevis' hands into his bones, down to his cock. Looking down on him, pinned to the ground, bare-shouldered and red-eyed, Eshevis felt a surge of excitement run the length of him. He could feel his heart beating hard and fast in his chest. This moment, hanging in the balance, when the victim either broke or fought on. Had he done enough? Had he said the right words and used his fists correctly? And not only that, but this boy: the one who'd escaped him all those years ago. This beautiful little creature who'd scarred him and made him a fool in front of all his men. Now, finally, back in his grasp.

Eshevis waited whilst the boy trembled beneath him, tense but no longer fighting. Still deciding what to do. Really, it was too easy; he may have seduced his way into becoming the mongrel's secretary, but an idiot secretary would be very noticeable, and it was clear then he was no idiot. The best cock-sucker in the Ethuveraz wouldn't have been able to hide from the Court's notice and gossip.

A few seconds more. The boy's arms tensed under Eshevis' fingers, then relaxed. His earrings made a silvery noise as a twitch of his ears knocked them against the floor.

'What–' His voice was barely a whisper. 'What would you have us do?'

A thrill of excitement and heady anticipation ran through him. Eshevis grinned and backhanded the boy across the face. 'First, wilt stop speaking above thy station,' he said. 'Second, wilt stand before us and strip.'

The boy's lip had split from the last blow; as he stood he licked nervously at the blood, then wiped it with the back of his hand, smearing across his chin. He glanced to Rilna at the door and Tamris at the other end of the desk, both watching with undisguised interest. With a visible shiver he looked down and began undressing. His hands were trembling as he folded his jacket and placed it on the desk.

'Answer us,' Eshevis said.

'Yes, sir,' the boy said, flinching.

He took his time undressing – fumbling with his shoes and belt, hesitating with his long fingers on the waistband of his undergarments. He knocked his undershirt off the desk and, half-naked, stooped quickly to pick it up and fold it again. Eshevis sat back on his chair and watched, comfortable that he had to do no more than that to fluster and frighten. And it wasn't as if he couldn't appreciate just watching: the boy's skin was pure elvish white, except for the silvery discolouration of scarring on his back – he'd been whipped, a common punishment for couriers, but still, Eshevis thought, wouldn't that have been a sight to see – and reddened patches on his neck and high cheekbones. He had lean limbs, wiry muscles like rope beneath his skin, and narrow hips. His feet were long and heavily calloused. His cock, though he tried to hide it, was for his size only average or thereabouts, if a pleasing pink colour.

'Kneel,' Eshevis said, and the boy did so, whispering the words 'yes, sir', settling on his knees by Eshevis' feet, head down, shoulders hunched. He had his hands on his lap, crossed wrists covering between his legs, and he flinched when Eshevis kicked them away. The only sound in the room was his uneven breathing and the slight jangle of his earrings.

Eshevis pulled up the desk chair, settling it in front of the boy before sitting. With one boot on the boy's shoulder he pushed him back, making him expose the length of his chest and stomach and pretty pink cock. Then he moved his foot, pressing the tip of his boot to the boy's lips.

'Clean it,' he said.

'Yes, sir.' The words were instant but i t took a moment more before but the boy's tongue flickered out, hesitant at first but slowly growing in competence. Eshevis' boots were barely dirty, the soft leather having been subjected to rain-wet stone courtyards at worst, but it was gratifying to see all the same. He lowered his foot to the ground and the boy followed it, lapping at it properly now, head bobbing slightly with the action of his tongue. Undoing his trousers and palming his cock, Eshevis jerked his head at Rilna, a n order that Rilna recognised well, turning and leaving silently.

Had the boy done this before? He was definitely being thorough, moving his head to clean the whole front and sides of Eshevis' boot, and Eshevis' cock throbbed in his hand. He lifted his foot to allow the boy to lick the sole. 'The other,' he said, and irritation sparked through him as his voice came out rougher than he meant it to, even when the boy moved obediently to his other boot.

'Yes, sir.'

Rilna came back then, in his hands rope and cloth for a gag; at a signal from Eshevis he crossed the room to grab the boy’s wrists and tie them roughly behind his back. At his touch the boy made a broken noise, jerking away and flattening himself against the floor, but didn’t struggle beyond that first flinch.

‘ Did we say thou couldst stop?’ Eshevis said.

'No, sir.'

He let the boy continue licking his boots for a moment more, unsteady without his hands to balance him, trembling visibly. From above, his head was moving like he was sucking cock. Then Eshevis stood, knocking the boy in the face as he got up. Rilna was there with the gag the moment he had room, forcing the wadded cloth between the boy's teeth and caring little about aching jaws and pulled hair, working on long experience and no small amount of sadistic pleasure. He would be disappointed; normally Eshevis shared his toys, but tonight he wanted this little fox for himself only.

' Well, so far so good,' he said. 'But even wild animals know how to act when they must . We still need to find out if  thou' rt truly tame d .'

Gods, he was so hard he ached. 'Up,' he said, and gestured to the desk.

The boy  got up , shaky as a newborn  foal , and stood besides Eshevis, facing the desk. Eshevis  moved to stand directly behind him and  ran a hand over his shoulders, down his back, to his arse. ' Legs apart,' he said, low, leaning to speak directly in to the boy's ear.

Though he couldn't see the boy's face, the sound of his breathing and hitch of his shoulders made it clear that he had begun to cry, stifled and trembling sobs. He still moved his legs apart, even if he took a long time to do it. The muscles in his back tensed as Eshevis pressed a fingertip against his hole, tracing the rim a few times before forcing it in dry. Friction dragged at his finger, muscle squeezing it; he fucked the boy with it a few times, pulling all the way out then pushing in until his knuckles stopped him going any further, and even with just one finger the boy was panting and shivering like a horse plagued with flies. Eshevis pushed in a second finger. The boy stifled a cry – he was tight as a twelve-year-old virgin, Eshevis thought as he twisted his fingers, crooking them and forcing them apart to stretch the boy properly.

'We're afraid this is going to hurt,' he said, lips brushing the back of the boy's shoulder, fake apology heavy with amusement. With his free hand he gently grasped the boy's neck to pull him back from where he was leaning away, so that his back brushed Eshevis' chest. 'But there's nothing much we can do about that.'

A third finger and the boy cried out again, wet and choppy from behind the gag, and Eshevis could feel the vibration of it in his hand on the boy's neck. Now, with three fingers working inside of him, he was growing slowly looser – very slowly – just loose enough to fit a cock, dry, without undue pain on Eshevis' part. A little pain would help him keep going for longer; it wouldn't do to finish too quickly on this delight – though, of course, he could always keep him for another round later on. See what he looked like, squirming as he was impaled on Eshevis' fist...

Eshevis pulled out his fingers and shoved the boy down with the hand on his neck, letting him hit the desk with a startled cry and a thump. Guiding his cock, already leaking precome, to the boy's hole, he pushed inside. It was tight – the boy was clenching up – and Eshevis' fingers around his neck clamped down hard until the head of his cock was in, then he paused, breathing hard. He ran his free hand up and down the boy's side, like he would a dog, and resisted the urge to thrust his hips forwards. They were both panting, and Eshevis laughed to himself at the sight spread out beneath him.

Slowly, eventually, the tightness lessened and Eshevis rocked his hips, pushed himself in further, inch by inch, agonisingly slow. About half-way in he stopped for a long moment. It did hurt, still, but only in an immensely satisfying manner: to see himself penetrate another, this ultimate dominance of one tied and subjugated and lying beneath him – he forced the last few inches until he couldn't go any further, then paused. His heart was racing. He realised he was grinning, hard.

Letting his hips rock, slow at first, small movements, he took a leisurely pace. He had all night, after all, and the pain was mingling with pleasure in bursts like glory inside him, hot, heady delight. He bent lower over the boy's back as he gradually sped up, deepening his thrusts, and gripped the boy's hair to turn his head to one side where it was pressed against the desk. The boy's eyes were shut, face screwed up, closed off, and Eshevis bit his earlobe before sucking on it, using his tongue to tug on the earring. He kissed the top of the boy's jawline, gently licking the soft skin in a line where jaw met neck, then returned to work up the length of his ear, from earlobe to tip, with his teeth grazing the skin in-between wet kisses. The boy rocked with the force of his thrusts but didn't otherwise move.

Eshevis bit the tip of his ear, hearing the solid structure of it crush between his teeth. The boy cried out at that, muffled through the gag, and bucked beneath him as Eshevis pinned him down by his shoulders and fucked him harder, making each sharp thrust as deep as possible. He could barely control himself; he didn't want to. He never felt more alive than moments like this. A groan, low and rumbling in his chest, was building up and spilling from his throat. His desk scraped across the floor; the sweat on his skin made the sound of flesh on flesh louder, and sharper. The boy would have deep bruises on his hips, come morning.

He came soon after that, as the boy was still twisting to get away, the release rushing through him in a burst of triumph, like hot sparks of lightning in his veins. For a moment there was nothing much other than the glory, victory, liquid joy in his bones as his hips jerked and he left his seed deep inside the boy: the perfect, physical leavings of conquest. He took a moment to gather himself after the orgasm, then he pulled out, wiped himself off on the boy's shirt. He stepped back and buttoned up his trousers; almost as soon as he had the room the boy jerked away from the desk, standing for a bare second before stumbling to his knees. Eshevis made a motion towards him – to grasp his ear, perhaps, and make him beg a bit more – but in twitching away the boy only fell on his side to the floor, and watching him wriggle away with his hands still tied, Eshevis decided he was too lazy and sated to go wrestling on the ground after him.

'Stop,' he said, voice rough and low, and was rewarded with the boy falling still, except for the rapid movement of his chest as he panted for breath.

'Come here,' he said. The boy stood unsteadily, like he was about to fall back down at any second, and turned to face Eshevis. Eshevis motioned him closer, then, when he was within reach, punched him in the stomach. The boy curled forward and fell like a stone.

'Thy place is on thy knees, or on thy belly on the floor,' Eshevis said.

The boy rasped a breath around the gag, then coughed, drawing into himself as he struggled for air. When he finally looked up his upper lip was drawn back in a snarl, and his eyes were wide with fury. He was twisting his hands in their bindings, rubbing the skin red.

A breathless moment passed where Eshevis froze, absolutely certain the boy was about to lunge for him – for all the good that would have done, being yet bound and gagged – but the boy did nothing but get back onto his knees, bent at the waist into something like a bow, hiding his face. He was trembling, ears flattened, but in fear or anger? At the sight of him Eshevis' cock twinged, though it was too soon after his release to fully harden, and he barked a startled laugh. He'd been meaning to let the boy go, but now – how could he refuse this challenge?

Eshevis crouched down in front of him and gripped his chin, forcing him to look up and meet his eyes. 'Do we need to teach thee another lesson?' he asked, and let go when the boy lowered his gaze. He reached around and undid the gag, pulling it out and dropping it to the floor.

'No, sir,' the boy said, but the look on his face was still fury, even dampened.

Holding out his hand in front of the boy's face, curled to present him the backs of his fingers, Eshevis waited. After a long time the boy leant forward and kissed his knuckles, though avoided his signet ring. Good enough, Eshevis supposed, and traced the boy's lips with his fingertips, smiling when the boy took them into his mouth and sucked on them, hot and wet, his tongue moving beneath the pads of his fingers.

Would he try to bite? If Eshevis made him suck his cock, would he bite that?

Eshevis shoved his fingers further in, sliding them over his tongue down to the back of his throat. The boy flinched and gagged, swaying where he knelt, but did not bite. His eyes were screwed shut, his ears pinned back and shoulders hunched, but he still sucked on Eshevis' fingers like a whore. The bitten tip of his ear was bleeding, blood running down the lower edge, dripping off his earlobe to make red blooms on his shoulder.

Eshevis' cock was already hardening, too eager to wait for long. He pulled his fingers from the boy's mouth and stood back, half-sitting on the edge of his desk. 'One last task before we believe of thy tameness,' he said, undoing his trousers and pulling his cock out. 'Thou'st been very good, so far.'

The boy bared his teeth – just for a second – and the thrill raced through Eshevis like fire, more intoxicating than the strongest spirits. He closed his eyes as the boy shuffled forward and took his cock in his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and swallowing it down as far as it would go. The boy bobbed his head and scraped the tip of his tongue down the length of it, and Eshevis felt his jaw tremble and imagined the snap of his teeth closing down. Overstimulated from the last time, his cock and balls ached, and tension like a bowstring reached up into his gut. His hips ached to thrust forward but he forced himself to stay still. Let the boy do the work. In his chest his heart was beating like a war drum.

At some point the boy had changed to a different rhythm, quicker, shallower motions, and Eshevis opened his eyes to watch him. His lips had pinkened, wet with saliva as they stretched around the girth of Eshevis' cock. Saliva dripped down his chin. His eyes were downcast and his shoulders no longer hunched, but his hands were clenched into tight fists behind him, straining against the rope. His breath whistled through his nose, short and choppy, and the sloppy sound of it all made Eshevis grip the desk behind him in his effort not to move. 

His balls tightened, drawing up to his body, and little contractions ran down his cock, shivering through his abdomen. It was too soon after his last release – he couldn't come, the sensation building inside him until he felt raw from it, tight like a steel drum, standing on a dizzying, glorious height.

The longer he waited the greater the chance the boy would decide to bite after all. Sink his teeth in, let his hate overcome him, so easy to do with Eshevis' cock in the steel trap of his jaws. But he didn't, and every second passing was another second he obediently held his mouth open for Eshevis' cock.

Eshevis came, his mind clearing as the force of his orgasm tore through him. His hips jerked. He wasn't entirely sure if he groaned or not, but he realised his mouth had fallen open, and closed it. His whole body felt loose and light after the wave of release rolled through him and left, hot in a pleasant way, ringing gently in his ears. The boy was coughing as he leant away, and Eshevis watched him as he waited out the post-orgasm haze, noting with satisfaction that the boy had swallowed his seed rather than spat it out – though, he'd lost the chance to make him lick it from the floor. Oh well.

Eshevis tucked himself away and went around the desk to sit down in his chair, leaning back and stretching out his legs. 'Rilna,' he said, 'We'd say he's proven himself, don't you agree? The years have turned him into a docile little thing after all. Untie him, give him his clothes, and see him out.'

He didn't need to look at the boy's face to see the expression there – he could picture it exactly, and he smiled to himself as he got out a bottle of sorghum wine from the cabinet behind him, pouring himself a cup and examining it as the boy dressed. 'Also,' he said, and in the corner of his eye saw the boy flinch at the sound of his voice, 'get us another bottle of this, will you?'

'Yes, sir,' Rilna said, standing by the door, no doubt watching the boy with a sour, hungry gaze as he waited to escort him out. Eshevis swallowed the wine, savouring it as it burnt down his throat, and poured another cup. He didn't need to tell the boy not to go crying to anyone about this. The boy had been a courier, and they all knew as well as anyone how not to rock the boat. He would how exactly what kind of damage Eshevis' word would do, to himself, to Edrehasivar, to any of his old courier friends Eshevis could catch, should the slightest rumour of imperial disfavour come back to him.

Eshevis closed his eyes gently, waiting until the door opened and closed before opening them again. All in all, it had worked out rather well. Perhaps, after a little while, he should invite the boy back. Just to make sure he stayed tame, of course.


End file.
